


Complex and Multifaceted

by jimmytiberius



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Poor Spock, Surprise Ending, The Talk, not really any ships of consequence, poor Chekov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimmytiberius/pseuds/jimmytiberius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uhura is concerned that young, impressionable Chekov is getting the wrong message from Kirk's dirty jokes and general sluttiness. At her insistence, Kirk and Spock sit down with Chekov to give him a bit of a Talk about healthy human sexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complex and Multifaceted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johnlockasylum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockasylum/gifts).



> Gracie over on tumblr was feeling sad, so I wrote her a thing. (Her url is something ridiculous now like cannibalisticspacemanjohnwatson but she will always be graciepoopoo72 to me.) Not beta'ed or proofread in any way, written while half asleep and possibly on crack, enjoy at own risk.

It happens, like most things on the Enterprise, because of Jim. If he hadn’t decided that dirty jokes were a great idea to pass the time on the bridge, and he hadn’t told a particularly complicated and graphic one involving interspecies relations, with a punch line that involved tentacles and the viscosity of various bodily fluids, then none of them would ever have had to suffer the revelation that Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, ship’s puppy and perpetual little brother, is looking more and more perplexed with every word that came out of Jim’s mouth.  
“I don’t get it,” he says finally, when the punchline has been delivered and everyone else is snorting or cackling or, in Uhura’s case, attempting to look composed and superior while actually silently choking on her own inappropriate laughter. “Why would he hev ze tentacles in his – ”  
Sulu, god bless Sulu, interrupts him a little bit frantically to make an irrelevant and entirely obvious comment about their trajectory, which Jim latches onto like a Vulcan on a fallacy, and Chekov gets to stay confused. For a while, anyway.  
At the end of the shift, Jim is all ready to call it a day and move on, but finds, to his dismay, that Uhura is giving him a Look. This is never a good sign. He follows her out of the bridge and around the corner before she grabs his sleeve and hisses, “Captain, you may have scarred him for life.”  
“What?” Jim shrugs her off. “Come on, it was just a little fun. He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”  
“Captain…” Uhura actually sounds serious enough that Kirk stops walking and okay, listens a little. “Even ignoring all the ways you should be in trouble for inappropriate behavior, I’m actually worried about Chekov. Between you and Gaila and some of the general attitudes around here, I think he’s getting all kinds of an education, and not in a good way.”  
Jim sighs. “Look, he’s an adult. I know he’s younger than most of the crew, but if he’s here, it’s because he’s mature enough to be.”  
“Intellectually, maybe.” She purses her lips. “But the fact is that he grew up essentially a child prodigy. He was on his first ship before most of us had even finished high school. He’s probably never even been in a relationship, and here you are, his role model, basically teaching him that sex is something you have a lot of with a lot of people and then laugh about. Your life is yours to live,” she adds hastily at the look on his face, “but I just think he needs more of a… balanced perspective. The chance to hear from a man he respects that the real world does not always resemble a dirty joke.”  
Jim claps her on the shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’ll think about it.”

The surprising thing is that he actually does. He talks to Bones about it, and the two of them agree that encouraging Chekov to emulate Jim’s less responsible life choices is probably not the best idea. But when it comes to the actual talking-to-Chekov, Bones is entirely less supportive. His response actually goes something like, “Never in a million years, Jim, Jesus Christ, you think I enjoy all the TMI I get around here enough to go after a little more?”  
Jim doesn’t want to do it either. But somebody’s gotta do it, and there aren’t that many people on this ship that Chekov really and truly looks up to. So that leaves…Spock. And hell, would Bones love to be a fly on the wall if that actually ends up happening.

“No thank you, Captain.”  
“Aw, come on, Spock, please. I’ll go with you the whole time, I’ll make approving noises, I’ll back you up. I just don’t think I can go in there and sit down with Chekov and say things about how sex is a beautiful thing between people who are in love and keep a straight face.” He’s snickering already just thinking about it. “And, well, keeping a straight face is kind of your specialty.”  
“I do not think it would be appropriate.”  
“Spock, your girlfriend’s right, it’s already inappropriate… and that’s my fault, and somebody’s gotta talk to him before he takes all that shit to heart. If Bones won’t do it, and I can’t be a responsible adult for long enough to get the words out, then it’s gotta be you.”  
Spock meets his gaze. “Jim… Vulcans do not talk about sex casually. In fact, it is spoken of very little, if at all.”  
Jim sighs. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “I know. But that’s why it’ll mean that much more coming from you. Please?” He widens his eyes. Even Spock can’t resist those baby blues. Well, not when there’s sound logic supporting them, anyway.  
“…All right.”

So that’s how, the next night, Jim finds himself sitting in Chekov’s quarters, drinking what he assumes is some kind of Russian tea that wasn’t made in the replicator but in an actual samovar, feeling like he just won the lottery as he is treated to the sight of the great Spock himself actually looking uncomfortable. Chekov, for his part, looks nervous, a little bit like a kid called to the principal’s office who’s not sure what he’s done. Spock sips his tea slowly. Putting off the inevitable, Jim thinks. Finally, the first officer sets down his cup and faces Chekov calmly.  
“Ensign Chekov, the Captain and I are here because we feel that certain inaccurate information has been implied to you, and we wish to correct the issue.”  
“Inaccurate information, sir?” Chekov frowns and looks to Kirk for clarification. “Keptin, what is zis about?”  
Spock continues before Jim can say anything. “It is regarding human sexual practices, Ensign. We do not wish you to be misinformed by the attitudes displayed by the Captain, as well as others on this ship, concerning the healthiness of promiscuous behavior.”  
Chekov looks utterly gobsmacked. “Excuse me, sir?”  
“Human sexuality is highly complex and multifaceted, and should not be reduced to the content of a so-called dirty joke.” Spock shoots Jim a look, having noticed the tell-tale curling of the corners of his mouth and the way he’s pressing his lips together. He is not going to laugh, he is not.  
“Oh, is this about me not understanding ze Keptin’s joke yesterday?” The ensign smiles guilelessly. “Do not worry. Hikaru explained it to me wery well after our shift ended.”  
“The Captain’s ill-advised sense of humor represents only one of our concerns at present.” Jim wishes his cup were alcohol instead of tea – he could make a drinking game out of the death glares Spock is sending his way every few seconds. “We are aware that you left home at a very young age in order to further your education and eventually join Starfleet. To that end, we are concerned that you have not received adequate education about intimate relationships that you would otherwise have been taught by a parent or mentor.”  
“Intimate relationships?” Chekov echoes. A blush is rising high on his cheeks and spreading to his ears as the reason for this visit is really sinking in.  
“Indeed.” Spock clasps his hands in his lap and shifts as if to straighten his already impeccable posture. “All humans feel some desire for relationships of an intimate nature, as part of the innate drive that all living beings have to perpetuate the species. However, humans tend to be highly illogical about these encounters, and display disparate attitudes about them depending on the individual. There are those who take sexual congress very seriously, as an act that may only occur within the bounds of wedlock. There are others – ” another look, and Jim is definitely counting now – “who prefer to treat it as a merely recreational activity. And then there are those whose attitudes lie in between.” Spock is beginning to sound like even more of a professor than usual, and Jim has a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually Done His Research. “Many humans choose to engage in sexual activity only with those to whom they feel some romantic attachment. This can be in a temporarily monogamous setting, a marriage, or a casual arrangement.”  
“Spock, I think he knows all that,” Jim mutters. “It’s not exactly a secret that some people sleep around, some people get hitched, and some people get hitched and still sleep around.”  
Spock silences him with Look #4. “There are numerous variations on the physical aspect of sexual congress. Among humans, the most common type of sexual behavior is penile penetration, either through the mouth, vagina, or anus. Personal preference and interspecies copulation can lead to differing practices. However, virtually all sexual behavior in which humans participate can be characterized by three stages: foreplay, genital stimulation, and, ultimately, orgasm for all participating parties.”  
Jim can’t believe he’s actually hearing these words out of Spock’s mouth. “He does mean all parties,” he supplies helpfully. “Never neglect a lady just because you’ve already gotten your rocks off. It’s rude.”  
“Right, Keptin.” Chekov has been silently absorbing Spock’s lecture in apparent shock, but now he’s beginning to squirm. “It’s just zat – ”  
“There are several salient points which I have yet to address, Ensign,” Spock interrupts sternly. His jaw is set in a way that seems to say, If you’re gonna make me do this, for fuck’s sake, Jim, I’m gonna do it right. Only, you know, in a more Spock-like way. “Consent, for example. Most humans agree that those who are underage are not sufficiently emotionally mature to be able to consent to sexual behavior. Consent must also be given freely, without threat, pressure, or duress. If anyone ever attempts to coerce you into sexual congress – ” he fixes Chekov with a patented Serious Stare – “it is imperative that you act only according to what you yourself wish to do, and not based on any pressure placed on you by someone else. If you ever find yourself in a situation in which you feel uncomfortable and need assistance, I’m sure the Captain or I would be more than willing to intervene on your behalf.”  
Jim nods. Spock, he thinks, would make one terrifying father. “’Course we would. Only you know what you want, and nobody else has got any right to make you do anything you don’t wanna do. That goes both ways, too, though. They got no right to make you feel like you’re wrong for doing that you wanna do. Like Spock said, consent is what’s most important. Long as everybody’s happy to participate, you’re free to have as much sex as you feel like, nothing wrong with that.”  
“I see, sir.” The ensign is biting his lip, glancing back and forth between Kirk and Spock as if he’s not sure who to look to for a scrap of sanity in this whole encounter.  
“Once consent is freely given,” Spock continues, blithely ignoring Jim’s contribution once again, “protection against unwanted pregnancy and the spread of disease should be a priority. There are methods of protection against both, such as prophylactics, as well as other contraceptive methods and vaccines. Ensuring that such measures are taken is the responsibility of all participating parties.”  
“All participating parties, sir?” Chekov’s mouth is twitching, and he seems to be recovering a bit from the embarrassment. “How many parties would we typically be talking about?”  
Jim almost drops his teacup. Spock appears unruffled, but the stiffness of his answer betrays him. “It is my understanding that while most human sexual acts involve only two individuals, there are those who prefer two or even more partners in a single sexual encounter. However, I confess that such encounters are not my area of expertise. I must defer in this case to the Captain, who I believe can give you more information if you so desire.”  
“Ah, Keptin?”  
I am going to throttle you¸ Jim thinks in Spock’s general direction. “Well, I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” he stammers, “but anyway, I don’t think that’s important right now. I think Mr. Spock has covered the main concepts here just fine. The point is that sex is fun, but it’s also something you should take seriously, and do safely, and all that good stuff. And if you have any questions, you can always talk to us. Or Bones,” he adds as an afterthought. No reason the good doctor should get off easy. “But that’s about it. And I think we should be going now.”  
“All right,” says Chekov, standing up as Jim does. Spock looks momentarily as if he has more research he wants to spout off before they go, but then closes his mouth and seems relieved to quit while he’s ahead. “Senk you, sir. Zis was… most enlightening.”  
They’re almost out the door when that innocent Russian accent calls after them, “But I really don’t know why you sought I was a wirgin.”  
Jim stops in his tracks. Next to him, Spock makes a noise somewhat reminiscent of a cat about to hack of a hairball. They turn. They stare. Chekov smiles brightly.  
“I hev a boyfriend, you know, Keptin. On Earth.”  
“You what?” Jim croaks.  
“A boyfriend. His name is John. We met in San Francisco, a little bit after you were first made keptin. I was eighteen by zen,” he adds pointedly to Spock. “So I know about ze sex between two people. I have never had it with more zan zat. I wonder if John would want to. He is – ” and here Chekov actually winks – “a little bit kinky, sir.”  
“Right. Well. That’s great. I hope you’re happy together.” Jim feels like his entire head is on fire and leaking steam. “We’ll see you in the mess later.” (God, he hopes not.) “Come on, Spock.”  
They bump into each other in their rush out the door. As it closes, Jim can’t even meet Spock’s eyes.  
He is going to kill Uhura.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, he is meant to be unknowingly shtooping THAT John aka Khan, but I didn't want to tag it because I didn't want to ruin it. you're welcome, Gracie.


End file.
